


The rest of the ride, is riding on you

by heavenisalibrary



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [22]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenisalibrary/pseuds/heavenisalibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shut up," the Doctor said. "I do not find your — your… archaeology rubbish hot, River.”</p><p>"Oh, sweetie," River said, holding the bit of pottery up to her face to inspect it very closely before she looked back at him and finished: "you really do.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The rest of the ride, is riding on you

Oh, he hated this, and she knew it, and she loved it more than she could ever put into words. It made her absolutely giddy like few other things did to wind him up this way. Really, she had a bit of a control problem — it always made River a bit giddy to flummox or wind the Doctor up, just because so few people were able to do it. The one-man equivalent of an army, and she could have him flailing and stammering and tripping over himself to get to or from her in a minute flat. The power was delicious.

But this was her favorite, bar none. All those years she spent in University flouncing around in tiny shorts and skirts and dresses and low cut everything to make him follow her around drooling like a dog had been wonderful, of course. And the few times she’d encountered him too young, the way she’d been able to make him nearly injure himself flailing about trying to impress her had been fairly excellent. But this was by far her favorite. Once she realized he was so susceptible, she invited him to every single dig she went on. She didn’t even care what version of him she got. She grinned up at him from where she knelt in the dirt, and maybe she pressed her arms in closer to her sides, pressing her breasts together in the white vest she wore and delighting in the way his eyes dropped down from her face for a beat to look.

"You’re making that face again," River said, smirking at him before she looked back down to her work. She carefully brushed over the artifact, extricating it carefully from the dirt with her tools. He huffed, and she imagined him tugging at his sleeves and bow tie, pulling at his hair in his irritation.

“What face?” he snapped back instantly. He crouched down beside her, looking over her shoulder.

"The ‘she’s hot when she’s clever’ face," River said.

"This is my normal face!"

"I know,” River said. She knocked the last bit of dirt away, and then replaced her tool in the kit to reach out and pull it away from the earth very gently with steady hands.

"Shut up," the Doctor said. "I do not find your — your… archaeology rubbish hot, River.”

"Oh, sweetie," River said, holding the bit of pottery up to her face to inspect it very closely before she looked back at him and finished: "you really do.”

He huffed, and stepped back from her, and she knew he was crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. She knew him so well she knew exactly what he was doing even with her back to him, and the thought made her smile slightly as she examined the pottery in your hand.

"1st century Tragirian," River said, "bit of an urn, I think, based on the hieroglyphics."

"That’s not clever," the Doctor said, "that’s the TARDIS translation matrix."

River snorted. “No, sweetie. That’s two dozen or so high-level degrees under my belt and a fluency in three times that many languages that I acquired the good old fashioned way.”

"I speak every language," the Doctor said. 

She turned to face him, rolling her eyes. “The TARDIS speaks every language. You barely speak Gallifreyan.”

"I do too!"

"Come off it, sweetie," River said, "you know your conjugation is just dreadful.”

"And yours is —" better? rang unspoken between them, and he clamped his mouth shut, looking cross. Hers was better. He certainly had a much broader vocabulary than she did — it was his native language, after all — but he never had much respect for structure. “Shut up.”

"Twice in five minutes," River said, letting out a low whistle as she brushed past him to begin properly packaging the piece of pottery to take back to the campsite. It was started to get dark. "You must be really far gone."

"I’m not — River, it’s not — you’re — it’s not the archaeology.”

"No?"

"It’s the top," the Doctor said. "You’re all —" he flailed his hands around, gesturing vaguely to her chest, and she snorted. "Plus, you’ve got that little smudge of dirt by your nose and your hair gets all wild when you’re out in these deserts and — and those jodphurs, you know — and alright, maybe your knowledge base is a bit impressive, maybe I like it a bit that you can identify everything on sight and all those languages you speak, well, it’s a tiny bit sexy, and fine, watching you order around a whole team of archaeologists is a little bit of a turn on, and the way you work with your hands is slightly distracting and very clever and — and nothing. It does not mean I like archaeology.”

"You do, a bit."

"I do not."

"But it gets you all hot and bothered."

“No —”

River laughed, finished with the piece of pottery, and stepping into his personal space and resting her hands on his chest. “Admit it.”

"Never."

"You think I’m hot," River said.

"Yes," the Doctor said, looking a bit puzzled at her making him state the obvious. River grinned, and placed a quick kiss to his lips. When he wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned into him, she realized exactly how much of a ‘turn on’ he found the way she ‘worked with her hands’, and he grin widened.

"You think I’m clever," River said.

"Of course."

She kissed him again, this time more thoroughly, and he swayed back toward her as she pulled away.

"You think I’m good at my job," River said.

"Naturally," the Doctor said, with a pinch of pride. She kissed him again, more deeply in appreciation of it. He held her tightly to him when she pulled away. She leaned back into him as though she’d kiss him again, but paused, her lips hovering just over his. His eyes were fixed on her mouth.

"Archaeology makes you hot," River breathed.

"Yes," he said. And then he blinked, realizing what he’d just said, and River burst into laughter, grabbing her pottery and heading off back to camp as he hollered after her, jogging to catch up. "It does not!”

"Can’t take it back now, honey," she sing-songed back at him.

Oh, but she loved this.


End file.
